


A Tapestry of Worlds

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-04
Updated: 2004-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 00:55:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drusilla reflects upon the pattern of time and how her visions have saved her two childer. Goes AU after 'Crush'. Drusilla POV, Spike/Dru.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tapestry of Worlds

The stars shine brightly for me, whispering their secrets. Twinkling wonders that surround the entire earth, naughty secrets and great tragedies. All of it written between tiny pinpricks of light. So very far and so close at once.

They tell me things, when I stand alone with them like this, show me wonders and horrors, until I can’t hardly see for the majesty of all. So many threads running together, crossing over, caught up in intricate patterns. Such a pretty tapestry, and every way you look at it, there’s another pattern, another world, another _existence_.

But tonight I seek only one. A thick knot of life and prophecy and magic all twirled up into a little ball in Cassiopeia’s lap. It writhes like snakes, wicked worms eating away at the heart of my reality. They move slowly now, fat after glutting themselves upon pasts and futures not rendered. Once my greatest enemies, and now just another tangle in The Sight.

Oh, but once they were fierce. I can remember it all, even after yearsdecadescenturies have passed. I can feel my twin hearts beating away from me, caught within the web of stars, struggling against mortality. Saved them both, I did and only with the stars’ blessing. They’ve always been so good to mommy…

William. Oh my dear, sweet William. They would’ve taken you, those nasty worms. Perverted your heart, rotted your spirit, crushed your body to dust and ash. I should hate the stars for what nearly was, but I can’t/I shan’t.

It was so close, though, so very close…

Do you even remember, I wonder? Remember that golden girl who almost stole your heart, your life, your destiny? An insidious little creature who twisted you up in knots and bent you to her will. Mommy should never have left you in the hands of such a witch. Your heart has always been so soft. Precious to me all the more for that, but dangerous to the wild exuberance of your existence.

I don’t blame you for falling, dear William, and I never have.

But, in that one moment, when I saw the blood on your lips warring with the blood on the floor, I saw it all. Oh, the stars had given you a dark path, my love. You would have loved her, yes, cherished her, shown her the beauty and perfection of her being. But she was only a little girl, and a blind one at that. The visions tried to talk to her, but she ignored them, ridiculed them. Not worthy of them, not their equal, not ever.

Oh, how she would have abused that poor, fragile heart of yours. I could see it then, can see it even now. I can see the disgust in her eyes, cruel blows and crueler words. I practically wept that night, when I saw the path that the stars offered you. An enticing trail of breadcrumbs that led to misery and agony.

I saw you sobbing in loss.

I saw you beaten and bloody and trapped by your love.

I saw your spirit wither and die.

I saw you sacrifice yourself – foolish, precious romantic that you are – and watched that horrid, fiery beast rip your demon to shreds, leaving you a husk of yourself, a husk of a man.

I saw you go back to her, trapped in her wickedness, saw you flagellate yourself, used once more but this time for the greatest of all torments.

I saw you burn to ash, my William, my Spike, but not yourself any longer, merely an extension of her, brainwashed and scrubbed clean of your essence.

I tried not to weep.

And now even I wonder what you saw in my eyes in that moment. The golden girl lying out before us, downed by our fierce lightning. You turned to me, and how I knew that this battle would not be won easily. Your fragile heart almost torn in two as you looked at me. Oh, how I feared for you…

But I should never have doubted you, my love, never questioned the spark that burns brighter in your heart than a million souls. I can still remember how you smiled at me, then, how you offered me that golden chalice to drink. I drank as deeply as I could, took in every drop of that girl, drained her heart and with it recaptured all of yours. Your eyes were dark as storms as we made love beside her hollow body, and I watched that dark thread of existence wither and die.

My boy, my sweet, my Spike. For ever and ever.

Now, only a smile curves my lips as I gaze back at the dark past. It was not the only trial given us, no. Grandmother – daughter? – is tangled in that web, too. Oh, how she laughed when I told her I had saved you from destruction at the Slayer’s hands. She thought your cruel fate was simply the funniest thing she’d ever heard. Until I told her hers.

I wonder sometimes what the stars mean by it all. Such rough roads they build, only to show them to me that we may all steer clear of them. Did they not think I would warn my daughter – grandmother? – of the foul disease that would swell in her belly and claim her existence for a second time? Did they not expect me to avert these horrors? And, if not, why show me these visions in the first place?

A gift and a curse.

Like that little man in the picture box who must wipe his hands with each revelation. He looked so tasty, but you wouldn’t let me eat him, would you, Spike? Some nonsense about syndication…

But prey that has been lost over the years means little in the end, and all that remains are myself and my pretty boy and girl. Er…grandmother? Death and destruction and _life_ before us as far as the stars can see…

Or, at least, as long as my children don’t kill each other fighting over who must clean up the leftovers of tonight’s dinner.

“Brothers and sisters shouldn’t fight,” I chide you both as I come upon the scene in the dining room of our newest home. Four cooling bodies on the floor, flesh blue with death as ours is now red with life.

“Bloody bitch thinks ‘m about to dump her corpses for her. She needs to have her head examined.”

Ah, my beautiful poet lives on. Such pretty words…

“Yes, heaven forbid _you_ should ever lift a finger to help around here. Getting a bit big for our britches, are we?”

And my…er, grandmother? Daughter?

“It’s Goldilocks’ turn to take out the three bears,” I remind her.

“There are four.” Always with the dry wit, that one.

“Told you so.” My Spike grins in triumph.

Curses and insults, but my…er, _female relative_ does her work.

“Somethin’ out on that balcony you’re not tellin’ us about, luv?” Strong arms wrap around me from behind, and I breathe deep of my love’s scent.

“Nothing,” I shake off the old thoughts. Impossible to remember sad past possibilities in the cradle of his embrace. “Just looking at the stars…”


End file.
